Ed. Note: It’s snowing in NYC. Did you know that? Because it totally is even though it’s the first goddamn day of Spring and also an eclipse and mom’s birthday and I just took a buck-seventy cut in my take-home so, yeah…would life be better in Texas right now? Fuck yes. UP WITH TINNITUS! UP WITH DYSPEPSIA! UP WITH THE ALPHA/OMEGA LONE STAR BURNING BRIGHTER THAN THE UBER ALLES! Amen. But I’m not and Ms. Maggie is and she is just getting her ass all settled in the grit of high octane taste-makers from blues trips to soul rips to electro ad-busting postmodern mechanics and, also, Family of the Year who we’ve had the softest spot in our amphetamine hearts for since they played our one and only SXSW showcase way back in 2011 and Charles just could NOT stop crushing on their redhead (manager, maybe?) who, he swears, looked and smelled just like the girl he lost his virginity to and also, they were warm and wonderful people whose set all but ruled the roost (Slang Chickens, though…and the girl with the gun) and she just keeps on fucking killing it with the evidence. So please dig, if you will, her pictures.
Family of the Year